


Hot and Cold

by chesapeake ripoff (turnofthesentry)



Category: Dark Avengers (Comic), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Alien Sex, Consensual Violence, M/M, Symbiotic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnofthesentry/pseuds/chesapeake%20ripoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daken wondered, then, why he didn't take more advantage of Mac's sore spots. Beneath the thick shell of the alien symbiote, the man inside was an insane, idiotic mess. </p>
<p>"Hey," he said, his voice suddenly soft. "I want to borrow Mac. Would you lend him over?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot and Cold

Mac Gargan didn't always like the way his new "Spider-Man" look fitted; it was slender and sleek like the real deal himself, but that was exactly the problem. Mac liked the bulging masses of muscle that came with Venom and having the rough body weight equivalent of a Mack truck. He didn't like looking down and seeing the symbiote tight over his own arms and legs, which, though muscular, were reedy thin in comparison. 

He got lots of women with it, though, so it was hard to stay _upset_ about it. It was more of an occasional twinge of disappointment he felt if he caught his reflection in a mirror or a window. Part of why he liked being Venom was because he _didn't_ look like Mac Gargan. 

Daken didn't care much about how he looked as "Wolverine." At first the idea of wearing his father's costume and his title had repulsed him, but it warmed up to him the longer he wore it. It wasn't how _he_ would rebel, but it was enough of a Fuck You to keep him from getting bored. What he really wanted was some hi-definition footage of himself gutting some innocent civilians in the costume to really get people's hackles up. 

But that didn't mean he wanted to wear it around the Tower. That was when the repulsion would begin to set in again, especially whenever he was in the vicinity of Ares or the Sentry. He wondered if they measured him against Wolverine when they looked at him, and if he thought for a moment he would win he would put his claws through their temples to keep them from ever thinking it again. He'd just torn his costume off and put on instead a pair of jeans, no shirt, holding his head high as he stalked down one of the Tower's expansive hallways. 

He stopped and sniffed the air. 

"Venom, you aren't _following_ me, are you?" 

Daken glanced upward, and sure enough, Gargan was on the ceiling above him like an ominous, slobbering cloud. With a disinterested wave of his hand Daken flicked several drops of saliva from his shoulder and moved out of drip trajectory. 

"Get down from there," he said. Gargan only grinned and lolled out his tongue in response. Daken added viciously: _"Spider-Man,"_ and earned himself a heavy smack in the side of his face with that hanging tongue. Enraged, Daken grabbed it and yanked Gargan down himself. 

"I'm telling," Mac said, petulantly. 

"Very scary." Daken looked him over. "You're looking… bigger, today." 

"Leave it to you to notice," Gargan hissed with that thick slur the symbiote always gave him. 

"Right, you're so _big and strong."_ Daken bared his teeth, in what could have been a snarl or a smirk. "What's little ol' me to do about it?" 

Daken was more than used to stereotypes. He was Asian and he was not heterosexual, which meant 9 out of 10 Westerners would assume he was feminine. Most times, he worked this to his advantage.

But every now and then, Daken did like to deconstruct a stereotype. 

He popped out his claws and ran them across the floor, dragging narrow cuts along the marble -- it screeched and caused the whole floor to tremble, and the symbiote quivered terribly. 

_**"Sssstop,"**_ Gargan moaned. Daken repeated the motion so that the ground shook more, delighting in the way Gargan trembled in pain. 

"You're pathetic," Daken crooned. "I heard you used to be someone, Gargan. You know, rather than some _thing."_

Gargan gnashed his teeth. "I don't know what Osborn sees in you," he growled. "Your job could be done by any of the rest of us. Bullseye--" 

"I'm not replaceable," Daken purred, maliciously. "And I didn't get the gig out of pity like _you_ did." 

As he hoped, Gargan lashed out at him again, swinging his thick arm at Daken's face. Daken sidestepped him and spun himself behind Mac, using the wall to propel himself at the small of Mac's back, which Daken hit with both feet. 

"But true, Bullseye could probably do _that._ " 

"Jus' because Osborn and me go aways back--" Gargan turned over and his arm extended, wrapping a thick clawed hand around Daken's ankle. Daken slid his other foot back enough so that he didn't lose his balance. "--Doesn't make it pity." 

Gargan didn't let his ankle go, but Daken moved so that his other foot was now on Gargan's chest like a hunter would lord over his kill. He smelled anxious, Gargan did, and Daken knew it was a sore spot of some kind. 

He wondered, then, why he didn't take more advantage of Mac's sore spots. Beneath the thick shell of the alien symbiote, the man inside was an insane, idiotic mess. 

"Hey," he said, his voice suddenly soft. "I want to borrow Mac. Would you lend him over?" 

Gargan stared at him, mouth opened enough that his snaggled teeth stuck out like broken shards of glass. "I _am_ Mac, you greaseball." 

"Not _Venom,_ " Daken said slowly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I just want _Mac Gargan._ He's in there somewhere, isn't he?" 

The symbiote slid back from Mac's face, before it slicked away off his shoulders and torso, snaking away somewhere unseen so that Mac lay on the floor, naked and shivering. He crossed his legs. 

"Hey! Come back!" 

"Thank god we can have a moment to ourselves," Daken said, kneeling and leaning close. Gargan looked at him warily, his cheeks very sunken, his skin very waxy. It was no wonder he spent so little time away from the symbiote. 

"I'm cold," Gargan said in response, his arms crossed over his chest. "To ourselves for what?" He knew though, of course, and ran his tongue over his lower lip. 

"Didn't all your whores teach you _anything?_ " Daken leaned over him, grabbing Mac's chin and tilting his head up. Mac nodded. 

"Until I eat them," he said, biting his lower lip and laughing breathily. His eyes glistened and twitched as he clicked his teeth in the back of his mouth. Crnch, crunch, crrrrnch. He relaxed a little, uncrossing his legs and putting his hands on Daken's hips. 

Daken put his mouth on Gargan's softly, nipping the man's lip but waiting primarily for Gargan's response, for him to open his mouth and breath and slurp at Daken's lips. "Ooh," Mac murmured, shivering again. "Yeah," he growled. The symbiote slicked out around his body again, slipping around his feet and his hands to give him back his claws. 

"If that touches me…" Daken cracked his wrist, fingers and knuckles arched threateningly. Gargan licked his lips. 

"It's not so bad," he said. Daken narrowed his eyes but pushed himself between Mac's thighs, touching his chest carefully as if expecting the alien to bite him, but it kept to the extremities. Mac's ribs stuck out, Daken noticed as he moved to lick his neck. 

"It's warm," Gargan continued, and gurgled, gnashing at his lips with his teeth again. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva and tilted his head to accommodate Daken's tongue. "Oooohhhhh! OOOOHHHHHH. Oh boy--" A hiss. "Don't make any noise! If Bullseye finds out I'll never hear the end of it! We won't! I'll have to--" 

His tongue snaked out, crawling up Daken's arm and tasting the skin. Grimacing, Daken noticed the symbiote twisted around Mac's jaw, giving him back his mouthful of fangs. 

_"You're_ the only one that's shouting," Daken hissed, ripping the tongue off of him. It disappeared again behind Mac's wall of teeth and he wriggled as the symbiote hid itself again. 

"Am I?" Mac's eyes swiveled around before they rested on Daken, and he tried to flash him a smile. It was recognizable, but obviously something he was out of practice with. Daken wondered if Mac even fully remembered how the muscles on his face worked sometimes, but then Mac closed his eyes and smirked, humming to Daken as he wriggled again. 

"You were workin' as a waitress in a cocktail ba—r, when I met you, I something-something-something-something turned you around--" 

Daken pinned down Mac's arms, working on his neck again and slurping at the pale skin. His nails dug into Gargan's bony hips as he felt Gargan's feet pawing at the back of his legs, uncomfortably, but he grinned and bared it. 

"--Into something neeeew, now something-something-something-something… hmmmhmmhmm… don't you want me, ba-bay, don't you want me… _OHHHHHHHHH!"_

Gargan was pulling at his mohawk. Jesus _christ._

"Right, so," Daken hissed, his mouth centimeters from Mac's. "I'm going to assume by my shattered eardrums that we're on the right track. You want more?" 

"Okay," Mac said agreeably, leering up at him. He pulled Daken's mohawk again, leaning up to slobber on his mouth. Daken's muscles stiffened and he bared his teeth. 

"Then first," Daken said, leaning back and popping his claws again. "We get you loosened up." 

Gargan's foot met his face and Daken flew backward, tasting blood. Two dislocated teeth, and his nose may have broken, not that it would stay that way for long. He'd underestimated Gargan's strength -- that was okay. It was more interesting, and part of the entire experiment. Daken grabbed his nose and cracked it back into place, not minding the coppery taste that drowned his sinuses. 

"You bring those things near me again," Mac said, pointing a finger, "and you're not getting them back." 

"I think you could use a higher dosage of whatever Karla's been spoon-feeding you." Daken spat out blood and dove at Mac again, pinning his arms and growling, not unlike an animal. Mac opened his mouth accommodatingly -- his jaw seemed to unhinge, unnervingly -- and Daken nearly choked on his tongue. "Disgusting," he said. 

"It's not disgusting," Mac said defensively, pulling the alien back again. Daken ground his teeth and wondered how many times it was going to be sprung on him. Mac seemed to be shirking back into self-consciousness, so Daken kissed the corner of his mouth and glanced downward. 

"Actually," he said. "You're right. Whip your tongue out again." 

Gargan arched his hips and contentedly let his tongue snake out again, whipping it toward Daken's hand. Daken grabbed it and eased it between Gargan's legs, licking his lower lip and unbuttoning his jeans front. Gargan squinted up at him, warily withdrawing his tongue. 

"Ah ah ah." Daken shook his head, grabbing the thick organ and smearing it against Mac's thighs. It was like holding a large wet snake, but he held onto it until it was properly guided. "I refuse to be the one doing _all_ the work." 

He sat back, sneering mildly at the things he could make people do to themselves. Gargan said "Ahhhhhhhhh" and wrinkled his nose as he uncomfortably tongued himself, before he withdrew it and coiled it around Daken's cock like a python for several long minutes. He whipped back into his mouth, splattering saliva everywhere. Thick tentacles of symbiote snapped around Daken's arms, yanking him close so that Mac could blissfully kiss his mouth. 

"That's more like it," Daken said, parting his lips for Gargan's eager -- and normal-sized, now -- tongue. His muscles tightened, resisting against the thick cords of alien holding him, but he managed to maneuver his hands onto Gargan's legs and push his saliva-drenched penis into him. Overall it was a lot _wetter_ than he ever liked, but more than sufficient enough for the purpose of fucking. Gargan's muscles contracted and he shuddered, howling low in his throat. 

"Ugh," Daken grunted, thrusting his hips harder and trying to avoid Gargan's kicking legs. He put his hand on Mac's penis in the hopes it would calm him down, but it only got him more excited, leading to bucking hips of mechanical bull proportions and fevered, dog-like gasping and panting. 

Gargan whined, trying to breathe and not drown on his own saliva at the same time. His fingers nervously grappled for something to hold, pawing at Daken's bare, smooth shoulders. Keeping the symbiote at bay was more of an effort of will than Daken suspected; it gurgled inside him, twisting with restless, jealous energy. Mac wanted it to stay put so he could enjoy the full sensation of Daken rocking against him, he so infrequently got laid as _Mac_ and not _Spider-Man_ and it only made him think about how malleable his identity had become to accommodate the alien living on him… how sometimes, he didn't really know the difference between Venom and Scorpion and Macdonald Gargan when he knew, surely, there was one. He didn't know, most of the time, if it mattered -- if not even he could tell the difference, who would?

Yet he felt so cold and naked without it. He _was_ cold and naked, but it was a deeper feeling inside his gut, a cold fear in his chest like an agoraphobic by an open door. He bucked his hips and kicked his legs more, hooking them around Daken's waist to pull him closer, to feel his warmth. The alien stirred again, prodding Mac's mind in envy. 

He licked his lips, watching Daken's hand on him with wide-eyed interest. He pulled himself up using Daken's shoulders for leverage, slathering his tongue along Daken's dark tattoos. He clicked his teeth together, licked his lips again, and bite down. He felt Daken tense, heard him hiss, but there was no sign of there being any wound at all. Mac bit him again and again, each time more aggressively, and was met after each bite with a much more aggressive thrust by Daken's hips. He dug in his teeth again and used Daken's flesh to stifle a shriek as he came messily. As soon as he did, Daken wrenched his face away and slammed it against the floor, busting his lip against the ragged title and filling his mouth with the taste of syrup. He ran his tongue along the wound. 

Daken continued to hold down Mac's head, thrusting into him with growls and hisses and no noises louder than the sound of Mac's own heart beating in his ears. He let his eyes loll upward and bucked his hips back against Daken, making gurgly hissing noises to distract himself until he felt Daken tense and ejaculate wordlessly. He pulled out and looked at Mac darkly before his snarl-smirk made a reappearance. 

"Say, Mac, you and Osborn are close, right?"


End file.
